


loved you then, love you now

by gidgit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Case Fic, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gidgit/pseuds/gidgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Certain as the sunrise, holidays for the Winchesters did not pass without excitement.</i>
</p><p>  <i>"Excitement," Cas grits out between his teeth, "is not precisely the word I was looking for."</i></p><p>  <i>Well, whatever.</i><br/> </p><p>Dean and Cas go on a Valentine's Day hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	loved you then, love you now

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write a dean/cas valentine's day in a way i see them actually spending it lol

Certain as the sunrise, holidays for the Winchesters did not pass without excitement.

"Excitement," Cas grits out between his teeth, "is not precisely the word I was looking for."

Well, whatever.

"You said you wanted to be a hunter, right? Consider this," Dean pauses to take off his flannel, leaving him in a dark undershirt. He tosses the plaid into a corner of the room, "a learning experience."

"You said this was going to be a simple salt 'n' burn," Cas says accusingly. He's eyeing the discarded shirt, acting like if he glares at it grumpily enough he might be able to compel the clothing back onto Dean's body.

"A _learning_ experience!" Dean responds brightly, removing his undershirt too. Bare chested, he stands at attention, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Castiel. In response, Cas tries to set him on fire using sheer force of will alone. Dean's learned to recognize the physical signs of that _thankfully_ unsuccessful (so far, at least) phenomenon. They include a furrowed brow and a particular twitch in Cas' lip, which... yeah, right there. 

"Not gonna work today, Cas. Might as well get naked!"

"Eventually," Cas mutters, probably not intending Dean to hear it, and crosses his arms. Dean's still grinning like an asshole - which, he thinks, is warranted, since Cas did just try to make him spontaneously combust, thank you - but he groans inwardly. Castiel can be a stubborn bastard when he wants to be. Which is pretty much all the time, but still.

To be fair, he _had_ promised that this would just be a simple salt 'n' burn. Sam had gone off to spend Valentine's Day with Amelia, something he'd more than earned the right to do, leaving Dean alone in a motel room with Cas in Montana. Dean had honestly been looking forward to a nice, quiet week of sleep, beer, and sex - "who needs a Pacific island, I can live the dream right here" - but within forty-eight hours he started to recognize the signs of Castiel going stir crazy. It wasn't his fault; being human was just... taking its toll on the guy. Dean didn't really imagine there was a clinical adjustment period for a guy who used to be one of the most powerful creatures in the universe, who now suddenly found himself living, breathing, and shitting with the masses down on the planet. It would take as long as it took for Cas to get used to it, if it happened at all.

Dean really hoped it would, though.

Still, when Cas started getting all twitchy Dean had thrown open Sam's laptop - Sam didn't need it for what he had planned with Amelia, after all - found a case of the supernatural variety in Indiana, threw Cas in the car, and drove.

"Vengeful spirit," he'd crowed, window down, enjoying the balmy February weather. Global warming was alright by him. "All the signs of one. Series of three murders in the same house, on the same night each year - guess which night? - in the past ten years."

"You'd think people would stop moving in," Cas grumbled.

"Eh, bank doesn't wanna lose money on the house, probably just sends a team in to clean up, repaint, and catch some out-of-towner with an 'unbelievable price' on a 'recent foreclosure.' Or people move in for the thrill of it. People are nuts." Cas shrugged. "Since it's a Valentine's Day thing I'm guessing the spirit's beef is some kind of spurned lover thing, so we just go in, find a name, and toast a corpse. Regular salt 'n' burn." 

"What about your vacation?" Cas asked.

Dean could hear the edge in the other man's voice, hurried to say something along the lines of vacations being for men with cataracts and irritable bowel syndrome, but apparently Cas didn't buy it and the next six hours on the road were distinctly uncomfortable. Cas hated the idea that Dean would put himself out for him, and Dean hated that Cas thought he wouldn't _want_ to do whatever he could to help out. 

Dean's ready to admit that maybe they can both be stubborn bastards, sometimes.

Anyway, turned out it was a vengeful spirit; some guy who'd walked in on his girlfriend screwing someone else, knocked the other dude out and bashed the girl's head in with a hammer (which, _Jesus_ ), then got in a car accident upon leaving and died on the way to the hospital. Unfortunately, since the murder was being reported at the same time that the accident happened, the doctors weren't aware that they were looking at a murderous asshole's donor card and put his heart in someone else. Dean hadn't bothered to find out who.

"Don't you think that's probably pertinent information?" Cas had asked, and Dean explained what had happened to the last girl he'd met who'd been the recipient of a vengeful spirit's organ.

"We're finding another way," Dean said in a tone that told Cas the discussion was over.

And they had, some Enochian phrase that could put spirits to rest, which Dean had to look up because the memory of the exact words had gone all fuzzy in Castiel's head. Angel brains - or the angel equivalent of brains - could hold all the information in the universe, but human brains just couldn't. Cas was a real joy to be around that night; nothing irritated him as much as being reminded of all the things that he couldn't do anymore. Turned out Cas was right about people not moving in, though - the house was, helpfully, between buyers. That just left them with the problem of getting the spirit to manifest in front of them.

"Cas," Dean says, a little impatiently. He doesn't usually have to work this hard to get Castiel's clothes off. "All the victims were killed - "

"In the act, I know," Cas cuts him off. Dean can't help but grin again, because he has severe emotional problems and people being murdered 'in the act' - getting head, specifically, according to the witnesses they interviewed - is just a bit funny.

Only a little bit.

The point is, the key to the spirit's arrival is a blowjob.

This is the best case ever.

"Take your goddamn pants off, let's go. We only got 'til midnight, you know."

Cas shoots him a look that's positively withering. "I'm never going to get off like this."

"I'm not so sure about that," Dean says with a little wink. Cas groans. "But what I am sure of is that you'll never get _me_ off while you're like this, so I'm driving on this one. Do you know I've never seen a dude bitch so much about getting his dick sucked? You are amazing."

The corner of Castiel's mouth twitches, which is basically an explosion of hysterical laughter with the mood he's in, so Dean figures he's off to a good start. Cas takes off his belt and is working on the zipper of his pants when Dean advances on him, pushing him against a wall and catching his mouth in a deep kiss. Cas' hands stutter and fall away from his pants, start to claw at the skin on his back instead. Dean moans and Cas swallows it hungrily, seeking more.

Dean pulls away long enough to taunt, "Thought you were never getting off like this?"

"Fuck you," is Cas' answer, and he pulls Dean in for another bruising kiss. Dean's hands run through Cas' hair, then move under his t-shirt, roaming around his torso. _'That's my t-shirt,'_ he thinks idly as he breaks the kiss to suck on a spot on Castiel's neck. He's going to memorize Castiel's entire body, he decides. He's going to spend as long a time as he has left on this earth mapping Cas out, learning every inch of him. He thinks about how glad he is that Cas is here - even if it's because he's not an angel anymore, even if it's because he got stuck as a human and stuck with the Winchesters in the same raw deal - and Dean doesn't feel even a little bit guilty about it, not now. There's time enough for that later.

There's time for everything.

Dean's getting hard now, but this is hardly his first rodeo so he ignores it, moves to unbutton Cas' jeans instead. One of Dean's favorite things about Cas as a human is seeing his ass in a nice pair of jeans, but it's not Castiel's ass that he's worried about right now. 

He shucks the pant and boxer briefs underneath down to Castiel's ankles in one smooth motion, lowers himself to his knees in another. Cas is half-hard in his hands, so Dean puts his tongue right at the base of his cock, runs it down Cas' length as slow as he possibly can, one long stripe right to the tip. He kisses away the bead of pre-come at the tip and Cas is stiff as a board now, breathing heavy, one hand fisted in Dean's hair.

Dean's looks up into his eyes. "You know, if you're still not into it..." he trails off, smiling as he ghosts his lip around Castiel's head. 

Cas makes a guttural sound that's probably meant as another 'fuck you', and Dean holds Cas' eyes to his own as he swallows him.

Cas' head rocks back, hits the wall with a dull thunk. His hips buck forward uncontrollably, and then Dean settles into a rhythm. He smacks Cas on the thigh, and when he meets Castiel's hazy eyes again he gestures towards the room behind him.

 _'Look out for the cock sucking killer,'_ he sends telepathically, and Cas gets it without angel radio. He watches the room as Dean continues to work on his cock.

Best. Case. Ever.

Dean knows when the spirit decides to crash the party even with his eyes fixed on Cas. The atmosphere changes, just like that, and it's there with them. He's about to pull his mouth off of Cas' dick and let him get to work when he hears his voice - breathless and shaky, granted - but loud and commanding and angel-of-the-Lord even without the Grace. The words are the harsh, guttural sounds of Enochian.

Well, holy shit.

Cas is putting this spirit to rest with his dick in Dean's mouth and Dean thinks if he had just a smidgen of self-respect less than he does, he'd be coming in his own pants.

Dean knows when it's over, because there's a flash bright enough to light up the entire room up behind him, and, catching his attention more immediately, Cas is throwing his head back and coming down his throat.

A few minutes later they're sitting side by side with their backs against the wall, and neither of them are speaking. Cas pulled his boxers up at some point but his pants are still wadded around his ankles. Dean suddenly remembers what he'd said earlier, about this hunt being a learning experience.

"So," he says dryly. "What did you learn?"

And then Cas is laughing, as hard as Dean has ever seen him laugh, and the next thing Dean knows he's laughing too, and they just sit there for a while. _'This is ridiculous,'_ Dean thinks, and it is, and it makes him laugh harder.

"Dude," Dean says, when he catches his breath a bit, "no, seriously, Cas, I'm dying here." He gestures to the hard lump in his pants and Cas is laughing again. "You gonna do something about this?" 

"Not unless there's another spirit around."

"I will jack myself off right here like a thirteen year old kid, don't think I won't."

Cas is still grinning, like it's easy, like the past few days didn't even happen. And Dean likes this, this insane moment, and their insane lives, and being right here, doing just what he's doing with who he's with.

He loves it, actually.

"I'm glad you're here, Cas," he says, quietly. 

Castiel's face sobers a bit, but he still seems lighter somehow, so Dean doesn't think he ruined it. "I just wish I was _more_." Dean leans over, kisses him softly.

"Don't," he says, as he catches Cas' eyes, "I don't want you to be. I just want... you."

They hang in that moment for an instant that feels like an eternity, and when Cas offers him a small smile Dean releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He doesn't think that Cas is okay yet - that he and Cas are okay yet - but he thinks they might be getting there.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Cas whispers, and then he's laughing and reaching for Dean's pants.

They're definitely getting there.


End file.
